


Songbird

by BlackWiresOnHerHead



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: First Kiss, Five Times, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protect these space children and let them have nice things, Slow Burn, nosy matchmaking pilots, precious Finnamon roll, squadron family feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWiresOnHerHead/pseuds/BlackWiresOnHerHead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Finn hears Poe sing, and one time they sing together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time is unbelievably misleading, Finn reflects later. 

It’s his ninth day out of the medical wing. The day Black Squadron sets out on a rescue mission. Captain Kun had been doing reconnaissance in Corellia when things suddenly went south. Her comms cut out, and after an agonizing five minutes of complete radio silence the General gives Black Squadron the order to find their comrade.

“Bring her home,” she says, and that’s all they need to hear before the finest pilots in the Resistance leap into their X-wings.

Finn, cane in hand, manages to hobble to the hangar just before Poe climbs into the cockpit. 

“You should really be on bedrest still, buddy,” he says, gesturing to Finn’s injury.

Finn half-shrugs and pulls Poe into a careful one-armed hug. “I just wanted to remind you in person not to do anything stupid. Not like the whole ‘going back to Jakku’ shit.” 

“I’d never dare,” says Poe lightly. He presses his hands to Finn’s hips, probably to avoid touching the half-healed scar slashed into his back. “I’ll be right back, soon as I can.”

“I know you will.” Finn squeezes and then steps back. “Go get her.” And he stands at the hangar doors until the X-wings have zoomed out of sight.

Black Squadron returns as a full unit many hours later, somehow unscathed and deliriously alive. Jessika Pava, with her unparalleled energy, manages to announce as soon as she touches the ground that the “biggest party on this side of the galaxy” will be held in the mess hall later that night to celebrate once again not-dying on a perilous rescue mission. And the instant the exhausted (but _healthy_ and _living_ ) pilots leave their debrief, that is precisely what happens.

Music blasts loud enough to echo down the whole hallway leading up to the mess hall. Finn slips in without drawing much attention until— 

“FINN’S HERE!” Poe says joyously. He goes in for a hug and then apparently remembers the state of Finn’s injury, changing to a light hand on Finn’s shoulder instead at the last second. “I’m so glad I get to see you. I mean I know we share a room so I get to see you all the time. But still. You’re here and I’m so glad you’re here with me.” He stops to shake his head. “Oh man, the babbling’s already started. Tonight’s going to be embarrassing.”

“What have you had?” Finn asks through a laugh.

“Let’s see… few shots, some whiskey, and some cocktail Iolo made. I’ll go get you some. Oh, you probably want to sit down though, don’t you? For your back? I know you hate using the cane.” 

And Poe winds an arm around Finn’s waist, walks him like that over to a table claimed by Black Squadron before leaving to get Finn a drink. Jessika, skin aglow with the joy of life and also a significant amount of alcohol, jumps up to kiss Finn’s cheek as a greeting. Iolo gives a friendly wave, and Snap nods so as not to disturb Captain Kun, who is resting her head on his shoulder.

“It’s good to have you back, Captain,” Finn says, and she cracks a tired smile.

“Good to be back, Finn. And call me Karé.” She holds out a cup. “Here. You ever drink before?”

“What _is_ the First Order’s policy on alcohol?” Iolo asks, and everyone else leans in, curious.

“Strictly prohibited,” Finn answers easily. “Which means everybody had some at least once a week.” He takes the cup from Karé and sips. It doesn’t taste familiar, but it’s not the strongest alcohol he’s ever had, so he tilts his head back and downs the rest of its contents. 

The rest of the table stares.

“He’s a tank!” howls Jessika, pounding the table repeatedly. “That’s our strongest liquor! This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. Oh man, between you and Poe—”

She stops, eyes wide. “Oh no. Somebody please tell me they hid the whiskey. Snap?”

“I was preoccupied checking on this one,” he says, planting a quick kiss to Karé’s hair.

“Karé?”

“Also slightly preoccupied all day, Jess.”

“Iolo?”

“Um.” He points somewhere behind Finn just as some truly _heinous_ noise assaults everyone’s ears. 

“What the...?” Finn turns around and discovers the sound—loud enough to be heard over the music—is coming from Poe, who is standing on a table and passionately yelling into a serving spoon.

“Oh stars, not this song again.” Jessika heaves herself from the table. “All right, hotshot, settle down. We know you found the whiskey.” 

“No I haven’t,” he protests.

“You’re an awful liar when you’re drunk, Dameron, and a tone-deaf disaster on the side. Okay now we’re gonna just get off the table, nice and easy—no, no STOP—damn it, Poe!”

While the caterwauling resumes, Karé starts giggling. “So you know how sometimes people have that _one_ kind of drink that just _really_ messes them up?”

Snap’s grin morphs into a cringe as the noise coming from Commander Poe Dameron reaches a new level of awful. “Poe’s is whiskey.”

Finn admittedly hasn’t heard much music in his lifetime. But he knows that at least to human ears, Poe is a horrendous singer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What better way to try multi-chapter fic than with a classic "5+1"?
> 
> If you're curious, I kind of pictured Poe singing "Sweet Child O' Mine" during the party. That, or "I Wanna Know What Love Is." Basically just any loud, classic-rock song with lots of "I'm so glad we didn't die" vibes. The more high notes and falsetto, the better.
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://blackwiresgrowonherhead.tumblr.com/)!


	2. Chapter 2

It’s not until the second time that Finn realizes his mistake.

He’s in the forest again, with snow burning his skin and fire freezing his blood. Kylo Ren stalks forward, throws Rey into a tree once, twice, as many times as it takes for her neck to snap and her eyes to go empty and the frost to turn a deep, dark scarlet. And then the terrible Knight of Ren pulls out his lightsaber, slashes and whirls towards Finn, above him, behind him. He is everywhere and Finn cannot move, cannot breathe through the pain, oh the pain, the pain—

“ _Finn!_ ”

And for the moment it takes Finn to fully wake up, he is not Finn. He grabs the hand that is touching his face, twists the wrist, bends the fingers, and _almost_ —almost, almost—pulls them back. 

Because for the moment it takes Finn to fully wake up, he is not Finn: he is FN-2187 practicing a standard persuasion maneuver on an uncooperative hostile.

But it is only a moment.

Finn releases Poe’s arm in an instant. There hasn’t even been enough time for him to say “Ow.”

“Ow,” Poe says belatedly. He only sounds surprised instead of frightened.

Finn feels sick. “I—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He can’t control his lungs anymore and gulps desperately for air.

Poe doesn’t hesitate to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Finn can’t understand how that is. “Easy there, buddy, easy, easy. It’s all okay, no harm done.”

“I was about to snap every bone in your hand.”

“Yeah, and it would’ve made flying a real challenge. Maybe even taken me down a couple notches in our pilot rankings,” Poe says lightly. “But you didn’t.”

“I was going to.”

“And then you stopped. And now we’re here. Sitting in the dark on our slightly-uncomfortable bunks, sure, but we are here. We’re here and we’re safe.”

_That’s not the point, he’s missing the point_ , Finn thinks, but he’s shaking and needs to focus on normalizing his breathing and not hurting anyone. The image of Rey’s broken body is burned into his eyes, the inexplicable feeling that he’s the one who did it to her is constricting his heart and his lungs, the pain and the fear and the power is too much. He curls up, puts his head between his knees, tries to will his body into stillness.

After a while Poe says quietly, “You were dreaming of Starkiller, weren’t you? Of Ren?”

“Yeah,” Finn breathes.

The bed shifts beneath him, and suddenly Poe is sitting right next to him. Arm around Finn’s shoulders. Finn wonders why he would get so close to a Stormtrooper who’s already shown open hostility and aggression. “Well, buddy, if someone were getting attacked with a lightsaber, that’s a pretty stressful situation. Sounds like plenty of reason for their instincts for self-defense to kick in. 'Fight or flight,' right? And let me tell ya, as a fighter pilot, I understand plenty of the appeal of both of those options.”

_But what if it wasn’t,_ Finn wants to ask. _What if I couldn’t stop it. What if I hurt you. What if that’s all I am underneath. What if I’m just like this._

“You’re not,” Poe insists gently, and Finn doesn’t know how much he said out loud. “As soon as you woke up, as soon as you knew where you were, you stopped.” He puts his other hand on top of Finn’s. “It’s not your fault you were taught how to do these things, all right? Or that they were drilled into you until it became muscle memory. You’re not to blame for what they tried to make you. I need you to understand that.”

Finn lifts his head. He breathes once. Twice. And then he nods.

“Good.” And the quiet stretches for a long time.

“Are you ever afraid to fall asleep?” eventually asks Finn, when his heartbeat is slow again and his eyes keep drifting shut against his wishes. He sees a terrifying splash of bright crimson every time they close.

Poe squeezes his hands. ( _I almost broke that hand,_ thinks Finn.) “Yeah. All the time, actually.”

“What helps you?”

Poe’s thumb ( _I almost broke those fingers_ ) traces circles on Finn’s palms as he half-chuckles. “Honestly, buddy? Sometimes nothing. Just lie there and wait for morning. Makes the next day sort of hellish.” He gives a soft sigh. “But other times, it’s little things. Thinking about home. My parents. My father used to sing me a lullaby sometimes, especially after my mother died.”

And then he begins to sing it for him, and the sweet, gentle melody makes Finn feel safe. He drifts into a calm, peaceful sleep so quickly that he doesn’t even have a chance to tell Poe how much better he sings when he’s sober and far, far away from Jess’s whiskey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had "Hush Thee My Dove" in mind for the lullaby while writing this one. Although I do also have a soft spot for "Lavender's Blue Dilly Dilly" (mostly because it makes me picture Oscar Isaac as the prince in the 2015 Cinderella movie, hahaha).
> 
> Thank you for reading! Come say hi on [tumblr](http://blackwiresgrowonherhead.tumblr.com/)!


	3. Chapter 3

The third time happens on a remarkably good day.

He’d gotten a promise from the general herself the night before that he could assist wherever he thought himself most useful.

(“Intelligence,” he’d said eventually. “If you’d let me. I want to help the best way I can, use what I know about the First Order to help the Resistance.” And General Organa had nodded.) 

There are briefings to be attended, sure—endless briefings, actually—but his first one doesn’t start for another hour. The free time would’ve been nice if Finn had wanted it, but extended bedrest due to injury has a way of lessening its appeal. He’s ready to _do_ something, damn it.

Maybe that’s how he ends up pacing through the halls of the base even before dawn. He’s eager to start the day. And greater familiarity with the facility can only be a good thing, after all. Know the layout, plan evacuation routes, pay attention to where there’s cover, figure out where and how to best trap open hostiles both indoors and outdoors in case the Troopers come back and—

Finn shakes the thought from his head. _No, that’s really not helpful right now._

“I am not a Stormtrooper,” he whispers. He readjusts Poe’s jacket—his jacket—on his shoulders, runs his fingers along its seams. “I’m Finn. I’m with the Resistance, and I’m never going back to the First Order.” And hearing the conviction in his voice makes him feel better.

With twenty minutes left until he meets with the General, Finn’s pacing brings him to the hangar, where he’s surprised to hear music lilting through the air. He follows the sound (and the voice that’s suddenly accompanying it) all the way to the unmistakable black-and-orange X-Wing. And yes, there’s Poe, reaching up into his fighter’s underbelly, singing along with the music BB-8 is supplying just a few feet away.

Finn didn’t even know BB-8 _had_ speakers. 

Both Poe and BB-8 are swaying to the beat, and it’s one of the most absurdly adorable things Finn has ever seen. Poe’s maintenance on Black One isn’t hindered in the least. He doesn’t even stop singing when he asks the droid to hand him other tools, he just replaces the lyrics with his requests for different wrenches. It’s so entertaining to watch that Finn is almost disappointed when BB-8 looks over and beeps a cheery greeting.

“Hey, buddy!” says Poe brightly, putting down his tools. “Sorry, I didn’t see you come in. Nice jacket you got there.”

“Thanks, I got a great deal on it. It was practically a steal.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Finn, it was a gift.”

“The _real_ gift is hearing you sing when you’re sober,” he says slyly, laughing at Poe’s mortified expression.

“Gods. I thought we all agreed to never speak of that again.” But he’s laughing too, so it must be okay.

“You were much better just now.” Finn gestures to the song BB-8 is still playing. “What music is this, anyway?”

“Some jazz by a musician from Coruscant. You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. Kinda makes me wanna dance, if I knew how.”

Poe frowns. “‘Knew how’?” he echoes. “Aww man. Buddy. We can fix that right now.” He wipes his hands on a rag and then holds out his arms. “May I?”

Impromptu dancing lessons weren’t really on Finn’s itinerary for today, but what the hell. He’s got some time to kill. Besides, Poe’s grinning at him with a playful glint in his eyes, and Finn will fork over fifty credits to anyone who can actually say no to that expression. So he shrugs and says, “Okay.”

Poe steps in close, puts one of his hands (with extraordinary care) on the small of Finn’s back, grabs Finn’s fingers with the other. He takes the lead, gets Finn to rock back and forth with him as they follow the song’s cadence. They find a comfortable rhythm soon enough—Finn’s pretty sure Poe doesn’t even realize he’s started singing along again—and then he starts adding turns, extra little shuffle steps. 

Finn’s having _fun_ , spinning around and laughing, Poe’s voice low in his ear. By the time they stop moving, he’s breathless and his face kind of hurts, he’s been smiling so wide.

And then Finn notices a few things simultaneously:

First, that BB-8 has stopped playing music at some point. Second, that the sun is rising just above the treetops and bathing everything in the hangar in a delicate, golden light. Third, that the jacket is suddenly making him maybe a little bit overly warm.

And that Poe is very, _very_ close. 

A loud metallic clatter rings through the hangar, and they both jump. Finn turns around to see Jess, hands covering her face and a collection of tools strewn on the ground near her feet. 

“MY EYES! Oh gods, my eyes! They’ve blinded me! I’ll never fly again! Nevermore shall I gaze upon the faces of my sweet and loving mothers!” She turns, eyes still covered, and makes a show of stumbling back toward the door. “Iolo! Iolo, my dear friend, where art thou? Come quickly to my aid, for the unlucky stars hath burned out my eyes with their brightness!” And with that, she kicks the door shut behind her.

Finn is… perplexed. “What just happened?”

Poe steps back, clearing his throat. “Yeah, well—sometimes Jess is just—a theatrical little shit. She used to go to drama camp when she was a kid, did you know that?”

“You’re _kidding_.”

“I’m dead serious. Her parents recorded all of her plays. We should bring those up when we plan our next Bad Holo Night, now that I think about it.”

“Nothing’s gonna beat that low-budget one based on the General’s life, though,” Finn points out. And then realizes OH, he still has a briefing to go to. “I uh, have to go see her actually. Like, right now or I’m gonna be late.” Finn doesn’t know why he feels the need to wipe his palms before looking back at Poe. “I’ll see you later?”

“Of course. I’ll catch you in the mess at lunchtime.”

“Yeah. Great.” And before he can think better of it, Finn steps forward for a quick goodbye hug before speeding off to start his… intelligence… briefing… thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jessika Pava is a giant thespian nerd, pass it on. Poe Dameron has a collection of jazz records at home, pass it on. Finn is a precious cinnamon roll who deserves nice things, pass it on.
> 
> Song for this one was “Moondance” by Van Morrison, at least in my head. Come say hi on [tumblr](http://blackwiresgrowonherhead.tumblr.com/)!


	4. Chapter 4

The fourth time, Poe’s voice isn’t alone.

It’s a rare night when almost all of them are off-duty at the same time. Iolo is trying to teach them a card game, but Jess’s competitive streak keeps derailing the learning process. (“Bantha shit, I _had_ that hand. You’re a cheat, Temmin Wexley.”) Poe sits a little further away from the table, laughing with them but not participating in the game. He’s been a little distracted all day. Something must’ve happened during morning practice runs, because Finn didn’t notice anything different about him until he saw him at lunch.

When Karé puts the whole week’s cleaning shift on the line, the others become hyper-focused on their cards, and Poe takes the opportunity to quietly step out. Finn, who isn’t a pilot and has no stake in the wager anyway, follows him a couple minutes later.

He finds Poe sitting near the lake, apparently watching the sun set across the water. Maybe it’s all the long shadows stretching out behind him, but he looks so… sad.

“Hey,” says Finn. He gets a small smile in response. 

“Got a message from my old man earlier today,” says Poe, holding the holo disk out as proof. He twirls it between his fingers. “Just needed somewhere quiet to watch it, that’s all.”

Alone. He means he wanted to be alone. 

Finn gestures vaguely back in the direction of the building. “I can go, if you want me to.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No, buddy, that’s all right, I’ve seen it five times already. It’s nice of you to offer, but I think…” Poe trails off, and when he speaks again it’s more vulnerable than Finn’s ever heard him. “Some company might be good for me right now.”

So Finn sits down. “What’s on your mind?”

He’s still fiddling with the holo disk, but Finn just waits. He gets the feeling this is more of a listening conversation than anything. 

“Today’s my mother’s birthday. And uh, usually my father and I spend it together. Go visit. Eat lunch next to her burial spot. But with things getting so busy around here after Starkiller, it didn’t feel right to leave. And Dad understood. Just sent me this instead. Recorded himself telling the story of how they met.” Poe smiles a little, tilts his head up and lets out a long breath. “I’m older than she got to be. Isn’t that crazy? Doesn’t that seem wrong?”

“Oh, Poe.” And Finn pulls him into a long, tight hug.

“I wonder sometimes,” Poe whispers into Finn’s shoulder, “if she’s proud of me.” 

“Proud of her son, who followed in her footsteps to become one of the best pilots in the galaxy? Who defected from the New Republic Navy to fight the First Order alongside her good friend General Leia Organa? Who fights for the good of the people, no matter how dangerous it is, and is willing to die for it? Who carries on her legacy to make sure her efforts weren’t in vain?” Finn asks. “I don’t see how any highly-decorated war hero wouldn’t be proud of her war hero son. Especially Shara Bey.”

Poe pulls back to look at him. “How’d you know my mother fought with the General?”

Right. “Uh, the General may have given me some old Alliance mission files to read at one of my briefings.”

He laughs, and the warmth has returned to his smile. “Figures. I had to jump through hoops to get access to those.”

(A little ways off, not close enough to actually eavesdrop, the rest of Black Squadron watches the exchange.

“Let them have their moment,” shushes Karé.

“Give ‘em five minutes,” decides Snap. “If Poe doesn’t make a move by then, he’s not planning on making one tonight.”

“Anyone wanna place your bets?” asks Jess.)

“Do you ever think about the future?” says Poe suddenly. “You know, life after the fighting’s done. Getting a house, starting a family, all that stuff.”

Finn shrugs. “Honestly, I’ve been busy trying to get through one day at a time.”

“Yeah, that’s true. It’s just—I don’t know. It’s strange thinking that my parents already had me by the time they were my age. Kinda makes me think I’ve been doing something wrong. Maybe missed my chance at it, waited too long for things to be right.”

Their eyes meet. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to wait for the right time, or…” Finn’s mouth has gone a little dry. “Or, you know, the right person or circumstances or whatever.”

Poe is biting his lower lip. “Finn—”

And _that_ is the precise moment Black Squadron shuffles forward, making a little more noise than strictly necessary to announce their presence. “We have something for you, Poe,” says Snap.

“For me?” he says, standing up. Finn follows suit.

“For your mother, too. We wanted to wait until after sunset to wish Shara a happy birthday,” Jess explains, pointing to the horizon. 

Iolo is reaching into a bag and pulls out delicate wooden boats with little candles at the centers, each one small enough to fit in Finn’s palm. “They’re from the general. And us.” 

For a moment, Poe can’t seem to make noise. “But… How did you...?”

Karé smiles. “All the years I’ve known you, Poe, and you only ever request two days of leave. One is your father’s birthday, and the other is your mother’s. We didn’t forget.” She nudges him with her hip and nods toward the lake. “Come on, let’s light ‘em up.” 

She leads them all to the water, lights the candle for Poe’s boat first. He kneels and sends it gliding across the surface, ripples spreading out and out and out. It’s not long before his is joined by the others. As dusk turns into deep and lovely night, the tiny flickers of light glow brighter.

Poe smiles. “Happy birthday, Ma.”

Jess starts to sing, her voice unexpectedly sweet as the candles float across the water. It’s a slow, uncomplicated song; Finn hears the same word over and over again. The melody is gentle in the quiet night, and then one by one the rest of Black Squadron joins in. Their voices layer over each other until all around them is music, rising up toward the stars Shara Bey undoubtedly loved so much.

Finn doesn’t know this language, doesn’t know what the word means, but it has the weight of something beautiful. 

Poe sings with his head bowed, eyes closed. After a moment’s hesitation, Finn reaches out and takes his hand, and Poe curls their fingers together.

Steadily their singing grows louder. Finn can almost breathe it in. It sends a shiver down his whole body.

And then the song seems to be over. For a few moments there is only the sound of water lapping at the shore.

Poe’s eyes are wet when he looks up. “Thank you,” he whispers. He’s still holding Finn’s hand.

Is it possible to _feel_ bright? It’s the only word Finn can think of. He wants to say that. Wants to tell them that in this moment, they are all making him feel complete. He wants them to know how grateful he is to be included in this beauty.

He says instead, “So what, are singing lessons part of Resistance pilot training too?” 

They send their laughter up toward the stars to follow their song. Finn hopes Poe’s mother can hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one _might_ have gotten away from me a little bit, but I’m not even sorry.
> 
> Song in mind for this chapter is “Alabanza” from Lin-Manuel Miranda’s show _In The Heights_ because the real giant thespian trashcan is actually me, not Jessika Pava. You too can come talk about musical theatre with me on [tumblr](http://blackwiresgrowonherhead.tumblr.com/)!


	5. Chapter 5

The fifth time is… well. 

A short summary of Finn’s day so far:

  * Volunteered for a non-mission in the middle of the night.
  * Saved a small child.
  * Almost got eaten, probably. 
  * Kissed Poe. Sort of.



All that, and it’s barely morning. 

Finn had returned to his quarters late the previous night only to find Poe standing at their door in deep conversation with someone who had a quiet, sorrowful intensity about them. He recognized the person from around the base (violet skin does tend to make one memorable), but the same can’t be said of the language they were using. Poe, on the other hand, was nodding grimly and responding in the same chaotic syllables Finn had never heard before. He clasped their hands before they turned sharply and hurried down the hall, passing Finn on the way.

Poe launched into a lightning-fast explanation before Finn even had a chance to ask. He really only caught a few keywords—flood, famine, dying, help. It wasn’t until Poe started hastily changing into his flight suit that Finn realized he was planning to leave in a matter of minutes.

“How do I help you?” he’d asked, and Poe had grinned.

“Ground support. We need someone on-planet to help get the refugees to the transports. You a decent swimmer?”

“Best in my platoon.” 

“Good. We leave in five.”

Finn flew with Poe, and the violet-skinned person (whose name Finn still hadn’t learned and it seemed a little late to ask now) accompanied Iolo in another transport, which made much more sense when Poe explained, “He’s their boyfriend.”

“ _Oh._ That must be nice.” And Poe had given him an unreadable look.

The light drizzle they’d encountered upon atmospheric entry morphed into a torrential downpour in mere seconds. Poe followed Iolo’s transport lower and lower, until Finn could barely discern groups of people gathered on the tops of buildings.

“Kriff, look at that. Andamé says it’s been raining for more than twenty days. Flooded the lake all the way out here. I can’t believe they managed to last this long.”

“Well that’s why we’re here to help,” Finn replied. And then, following _Andamé’s_ lead, he jumped out of the transport onto one of the rooftops. They did most of the talking; Finn was busy swimming from rooftop to rooftop, lifting things and also people above the waterline (that was rising unbelievably fast) and into the ships. He was going as fast as he could, but it seemed to go on forever.

At last there were only a few children left, all shivering in their coats but wearing expressions of defiant courage. He picked up the smallest of them, helped another jump onto the ship, and soon they’d all be flying out of here, safe and sound and dry. 

Finn had heard the shriek, the splash, and in the half-second it took him to whirl around, the very last child (a little girl with two front teeth missing) had already disappeared. He didn’t think twice about it—he dove in. He couldn’t see worth a damn in the murky water in the dead of night, but he still managed to find her quickly. He got her back to the surface, hoisted her up into open, waiting arms inside the hovering transport— 

And then _something_ had curled around his ankle and pulled down _hard_. 

Finn remembers struggling. He’d tried kicking, punching, stabbing whatever had him, but he couldn’t see through the darkness and water was pressing on him everywhere and maybe he was screaming or maybe he was gasping but either way his lungs were sinking and he was definitely drifting and dying, dying, dying, dying…

Until the next thing Finn knew, he was flat on his back with something warm against his lips.

He turned and retched lungfuls of water all over the floor of their transport. The people standing around him began to cheer.

“Thank the stars and planets,” Poe said breathlessly, pulling Finn into a sitting position. “Finn, you all right?”

“Yeah,” Finn gasped. “Yeah, just… catching… my breath…” He tried to reach Poe’s face, but his motor skills hadn’t quite returned. “Thanks for bringing me back.”

“I owed you one,” was the smiling reply.

And the thing is, that smile has been on Finn’s mind ever since. Because he only had the ghost of a memory of what Poe’s mouth had felt like, and Finn would really like to remember the sensation. He can’t believe he locked lips with Poe Dameron and his conscious brain had missed pretty much all of it. 

They’re not talking about it while they fly the refugees to a safe, dry location on the planet’s southern hemisphere. Because, well, it’s not important, is it? Except it is, to Finn.

When all the lakeshore inhabitants are trekking to their new temporary home, Andamé turns to Iolo and pulls him in for a long, deep kiss. Not wanting to intrude, Finn and Poe turn around. But they’re whispering things in that language Finn doesn’t understand, and suddenly Poe’s eyes go wide as he takes Finn’s arm.

“Buddy,” he whispers, “we should probably step out.”

“What? Why?”

“I think Andamé’s about to propose.”

Finn’s jaw drops. “Yep. Time to go.” And they throw a feeble “See you back at base!” over their shoulders to the couple too busy to hear it as they hurry back to their transport.

“How do you know they’re proposing?” Finn asks.

“All those refugees are part of Andamé’s family. They started talking about how Iolo helped saved all of them and they could be his family too, if he wanted.” Poe is grinning as he settles into the pilot’s seat, but Finn thinks there’s a touch of sadness there, too. “Oh man, this is so great. We always knew Iolo was gonna be the first one to get hitched.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. He was over the moons about Andamé as soon as they met.” And Poe tells him the most memorable stories of their early relationship as they fly back to D’Qar.

They still don’t talk about the not-kiss.

Dawn is just starting to break when they get back to base. “I hope nobody noticed we were gone,” says Poe, only to see the General waiting for them on the tarmac. “Of course,” he sighs, and Finn can’t help but laugh. They march off their transport and prepare to meet their fate; Iolo and Andamé, hands clasped, do the same.

General Organa demands to know why they would recklessly abandon their posts in the dead of night.

Iolo’s answer is easy: for Andamé.

Poe’s answer is easy too: for Iolo.

Andamé’s is easiest: for family.

General Organa turns to Finn. “One who did it for family, one for a friend, another for love. And you, Finn? Why did you leave?”

Finn’s eyes slide over to Poe. Poe, who jumps to people’s aid without a second thought. Poe, who knows fear and sorrow better than anyone yet still smiles and laughs brighter than any sun he’s ever seen. Poe, who thinks his life of heroism might have cost him a chance for a happy, settled life and blazes forward anyway. Poe, who’s looking back at him and filling Finn with warmth...

Their eyes are still locked when Finn’s mouth decides to say, “All of those reasons, sir.”

The General sighs, distributes punishments that are more like slaps on the wrist (Finn and Andamé are assigned two hours of extra training sessions, and Poe and Iolo are grounded for twenty-four hours), and dismisses them.

As they all walk back toward the barracks, Andamé taps Finn’s shoulder and holds out a holo disk. “For you,” they say slowly with a thick, unfamiliar accent. “From little one.” And when Finn opens the message, he is treated to a delightfully colorful drawing of a person (presumably him) heroically fighting off a many-legged water creature.

Laughing, Finn asks Andamé to give the artist his sincere gratitude. “And congratulations, by the way,” he adds, nodding to where Iolo is holding the door open for the General.

They beam, and the joy radiating from them is almost tangible. “Thank you. You too, someday, I think, hm?” And Finn realizes they’re gesturing to Poe.

He feels himself blush. “Oh, we’re not—it’s—he—”

“You look to each other the same.” 

Finn stops short. “We do?” and Andamé nods.

“Do not wait. Pilots are sometimes too brave. You as well.” And they press a kiss to Finn’s forehead before departing.

Poe and Iolo are just down the hall, where it sounds like Snap, Jess, and Karé are chastising them for not letting them help Andamé’s family too. (“But then we’d _all_ be grounded, and then Jess would resort to murder just to have something to do.”)

“Hey,” says Finn.

“Hey!” says Poe.

“We’ll be over here,” says Iolo, and he shoves his squadmates into the other room.

“So uh.” Finn clears his throat. “You… saved me.”

“Finn, it was nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing, it’s…” Finn touches his fingers to his lips. 

_Do not wait._

The intensity of Poe’s eyes is staggering. “You don’t owe me anything, Finn, I need you to know that.”

“I know.” And they’re so, so close now. “This isn’t about debt. I want this, I want _you_. I want days with you and your stupid heroic streak and your awful drunken singing and maybe someday a house.” Neither of them are breathing. “If you’ll have me.” And he closes the distance for a slow, gentle kiss.

After a while he pulls back to whisper, “Is this okay?”

“Buddy, this is—” Poe laughs “— _way_ better than okay.”

“Some more, then?”

“Yeah that sounds good to me.” And they crash together again.

(The other pilots watch it happen through the window.

“About time,” Karé mutters. Iolo shushes her quickly. Behind them, Jess demands her winnings from Snap.)

Poe… won’t stop smiling. “You know, you’re making this a little difficult,” Finn eventually complains. “I’m trying to kiss you but your mouth keeps not cooperating.”

Poe grins, completely unapologetic and radiant as sunlight. He wraps his arms around Finn’s waist, whirls them around, and then he’s singing again. He sings of flying over mountains and meadows, sings of singing, sings of angels and stardust and love. The words are close to nonsense to Finn, but the brightness is bursting out of Poe like starlight, and all he can do is stand there and drink it in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As previously stated, I’m musical theatre trash, so the song mentioned in this chapter is “Ten Minutes Ago” from Rodgers & Hammerstein’s _Cinderella_. The lyrics gave me the idea for this fic in the first place and, well, HERE WE ARE.
> 
> Come yell about space and also musicals with me over on [tumblr](http://blackwiresgrowonherhead.tumblr.com/), if you feel like it.


	6. Chapter 6

The first time they sing together is under some less-than-ideal circumstances.

Karé is swearing profusely, to the point where Iolo tells her she’s assaulting his innocent, untainted ears. “I’ll kriffing swear as much as I damn well fucking please, Lo, and no shit-brained bastard can stop me because I’m going to _kill_ that son-of-a-bitch Commander of ours.” He only laughs, and she glares. “It’s not funny, Mr. Engaged-For-Three-Whole-Days-Before-Telling-The-Rest-Of-Us.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“Poe getting kriffing kidnapped during a supply run does _not_ fall under the ‘humor’ category, you sick bastard.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to agree with Karé on this one,” says Finn, voice strained. They’d received a distress signal from BB-8 as soon as it happened (forty-three minutes ago) and were ordered on a rescue/retrieval mission. Poe hadn’t been sent very far for the supply run—he was still within the Ileenium system, in fact—so the likelihood that this was the First Order’s doing was small, according to Snap. Nevertheless, the entire base had still been on high alert when they’d departed in an inconspicuous cargo transport.

Iolo sobers quickly. “Sorry, Finn, didn’t mean it like that. Just thought it was ironic, considering we all went on a rescue mission for this one—” he motions to Karé “—not too long ago.”

Jess snorts as she shoves an extra flare into her pack. “Yeah, you’re not in much of a position to talk, oh captain my captain.”

“It’s different with Poe, you know it is. _My_ reckless streak isn’t three fucking parsecs wide. I swear to the stars, if this is all because he felt the need to rescue a goddamn baby bordok again, I’m strangling him with his own life support equipment.”

Finn supposes it’s a good sign that they’re all joking about this, but even the smallest possibility that Poe could be in the hands of the First Order again makes Finn’s blood run cold.

A hand claps him on the shoulder, and Finn looks up to see Snap flash him a comforting smile before returning his attention to the pilot controls. “Like I said, kid, it’s most likely a bunch of asshole bandits that just happened to get one of our ships. We got a lot of groups like that in the Outer Rim. First Order doesn’t have much influence out here. He’s probably just fine.”

“I’ll put money on it, as a matter of fact,” chimes in Iolo, loading up his blaster. “Twenty credits says we’ll find Poe completely lacking any bodily harm whatsoever.”

“Yeah, you won’t even have to worry about being delicate with him when you have your sappy romantic reunion,” snickers Jess. 

Finn smiles despite himself. “Yeah, all right, you’re on. Twenty credits.”

“Nearing the coordinates,” announces Snap from the pilot’s seat. “Better gear up.”

Karé swings her pack over her shoulders. “All right, moon jockeys. I believe our dumbass fearless leader requires our assistance.”

The coordinates BB-8 had sent them lead to a small clearing in the middle of a glade, where Poe’s ship has been left in a decent amount of cover. “No obvious signs of conflict, at least on the outside,” observes Snap. “Must’ve gotten to him when he went into town.”

They touch down right next to it, and BB-8 is waiting. As soon as they disembark the droid launches into loud, rapid binary that is apparently so vulgar it takes a few seconds for Jess to stop cackling. 

“All right, so good news: not First Order. Just ten douchebag smugglers who like to steal cargo.” And Finn lets out a sigh of relief. “Our supplies caught their eye, and of course Poe refused to cooperate. BB-8 managed to get away because these guys are—and I quote—'the shittiest and most motherkriffing incompetent biological life forms’ our dear friend has ever encountered.”

“If that’s true, then how did Poe get captured in the first place?” demands Karé.

“Yeah, that brings us to the bad news: Iolo, you’re down twenty credits. They managed to inject him with something that causes temporary blindness.”

“ _Blindness?_ ” Finn repeats, while Iolo quietly mutters, “Damn.”

“Temporarily! BB-8 already analyzed the serum. Effects on a human wear off after a few hours.”

Karé drags a hand down her face. “I’m going to murder him. Okay! Ten hostiles who are most likely easy to incapacitate, but in possession of a weapon that induces temporary blindness, so try not to get injected with it too. And when we find Poe, make sure he knows it’s us. We don’t want a repeat of the Naboo incident.”

“What happened on Naboo?” asks Finn.

“We’ll tell you later,” says Snap as he throws on a jacket, and then they’re on the move.

BB-8 is quick to identify one of the smugglers once they get into town, and then it’s a simple matter of interrogating them (using Iolo’s cheery formality as a foil to Karé’s terrifying threats) to find out they’re keeping Poe and the supplies inside a warehouse on the other side of the trading post.

“If one gets kidnapped by a group of incompetent dumbasses, then who is truly the incompetent dumbass?” ponders Karé as they come up to the warehouse. “Look, their doors are wide open and they’re all standing guard at the perimeter, it’s like they’ve got no tactical knowledge at all.”

“It does seem too easy,” Finn says dubiously. “You don’t think it might be a trap?”

“Don’t think these goons are even capable of spelling ‘trap,’ much less setting one.”

“Shh!” he says suddenly, listening hard. “Is that… can you hear him?”

It turns out they can. “Don’t get me wrong,” Poe is saying loudly to his captors. “I’m proud of you guys, you really got me with that serum injection, and the knots in this rope are pretty exceptional from what I can tell, but come _on_. We all know there’s room for improvement with your kidnapping technique. The amount of rope, for instance? It feels a bit excessive for a guy who can’t even _see_.” 

Finn catches eyes with everyone and knows they’re all thinking the same thing: _of course he would_. “I’ll give thirty credits to whoever takes out the most guards. That includes you too, BB-8.” And there’s a chorus of enthusiastic whispers and beeps. 

“Black Squadron, fan out and assume Ground Mission Formation 8,” orders Karé. “Engage hostiles on my mark."

Jess is practically vibrating. "Time for a a good old-fashioned ass-kicking."

“I mean honestly,” Poe continues obnoxiously, “nobody’s even come in here to try and get me to quiet down! We’re still _in town_. I don’t even need functioning eyeballs to know that. And did nobody even think to gag the prisoner?” 

They’re all in plain sight now, very clearly heading for the warehouse, and the smugglers react accordingly. They charge forward, weapons out, and Finn thinks that the grin on Jess’s face is just a touch too wicked for someone fighting for the Resistance.

“Oh, what’s going on now? Where’s everyone going? Is my rescue team finally here or is that just a bunch of loud noises meant to intimidate me into shutting up?”

“Finn, you better go get your boyfriend before I kick his ass myself,” yells Snap as he gets one of the thieves in a headlock.

Finn flips the guy he’s been fighting and starts making a beeline for the warehouse doors. “Understood!” 

“This is taking awfully long, whatever it is. How should I pass the time? Oh, you know what, I’ve had this stuck in my head all day, I think you guys would like it. It goes like this—” And then Poe starts singing a song he plays pretty regularly in their quarters, a duet that’s one of his father’s favorites. Finn likes this song too (he even knows the words for both parts), but seriously. Of all the inappropriate things…

Once Finn’s inside the warehouse he suddenly decides _you know, what the hell_ , and starts singing the next few lines. Poe, tied to a chair in the exact center of the floor, blinks a few times in confusion and cocks his head to the side. But he keeps on singing, which makes Finn laugh—

Until he sees one of the smugglers run in from the opposite set of doors. Finn runs for him, disarms the guy swiftly, and knocks him out with a forceful _thwack_ in the head.

That ridiculous, fearless boyfriend of his has kept singing the entire time. Finn rejoins the song in time for the last verse, as if nothing had interrupted. Their voices blend together rather nicely as they reach the end.

Poe’s eyes are a little glassy, unfocused at some middle distance. Finn brushes the sweaty hair out of his eyes. “Poe.”

“Finn. Oh man, I wish I could say it was good to see you, but they—”

“Blinded you, I know. Shut up.” And he kisses him. “Are you hurt?”

He rolls his eyes while Finn cuts through the rope wrapping his entire body. (Poe was right, it really _was_ an excessive amount.) “Nah. They didn’t have the means to do anything real damaging. I was never supposed to end up here, apparently they were only supposed to take my supplies while I couldn’t see.” Poe tilts his head toward where he thinks Finn is. “You’re a wonderful singer, by the way. Have you been holding out on me?” 

“Never really had a reason to sing, until you,” Finn replies as he finally gets through the last of the rope. He grabs Poe’s hand and helps him to his feet. “Feeling okay?”

“Perfect, aside from the whole ‘temporary blindness’ thing.”

“Great,” and he pulls Poe into another kiss. It’s their sappy romantic reunion, and Finn decides against being delicate. There might be teeth involved.

“You already share a room at the base, there is _no_ reason for you to do this here!” Jess shouts from the door.

They’re a little bit breathless when they pull apart. “She has a point,” Poe concedes.

“I don’t know, I would’ve been fine with a little more of that,” says Finn, and Poe laughs. “Looks like Iolo and Karé are rounding up the supplies, and Snap and BB-8 are heading back to the ships,” he explains to Poe. Finn laces their fingers together and tugs Poe’s arm forward. “We already cleared the area, so just follow me, all right?”

Poe smiles. “Anywhere.”

“You’re disgusting,” hollers Jess in a singsong voice.

“We know,” Finn and Poe say simultaneously, and their laughter sounds pretty good together, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no idea how this one became a thing. It was beyond my control.
> 
> Personally, I feel like this chapter gets even more hilarious if their duet is something really cheerful and mellow. If you wanna go for extra situation-inappropriate, imagine “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve” or even “Baby It’s Cold Outside” while Finn runs around kicking ass.
> 
> Holy shit, I actually finished a fic. And you all read it? And some of you even left ridiculously nice and encouraging comments??? And I made real people feel actual emotions?!? Thank you so, so much for reading, oh my god, you're all _awesome_.
> 
> **Update** : This fic got 100 kudos and it made me so superbly happy that I made [an 8tracks playlist](http://8tracks.com/blackwiresonherhead/like-they-know-the-score) to accompany it! Thank you all for reading!


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